Snow Prince
by M.S. Dae
Summary: Tamaki decides a Winter Ball is in order...in the middle of spring. As bizzare as it seems, the customers are as excited as ever. So off the host club goes, and off goes the race to find a pair of glass slippers...slight HikaHaru


**Kay, so this is my first complete Ouran fic which I wrote for a Livejournal competition. The competition was EGO. I decided to split this into three or four parts so that I could edit it more thoroughly. Within the next two chapters this becomes more Hikaru-centric, but it's still general-fic friendly. Hope I didn't forget anything! And Happy Easter:))**

**Disclaimer- I am so not cool enough to own Host Club. gah :(**

**Snow Prince**

**Chapter One **

**Virgin Snow**

_Third Music Room_

How some things could make sense to Tamaki was beyond her.

Haruhi Fujioka threw an impatient glance at the elder student beside her as he prattled on about his plans for a winter ball in the middle of spring.

"Niseko will be perfect for this, won't it Kyouya?" gushed the excited adolescent, a gleam in his eyes like that of a star struck twelve year old.

Kyouya sat behind his computer screen, patiently typing with relentless gusto in his hands. Without lifting his eyes, he responded, "It seems many of our customers contain a residence in, or near this region of Hokkaido. And it also appears to be that many others come from families owning hotel chains with franchises located there as well. It is quite a convenient location."

The self-proclaimed "King" laughed in excitement, spinning in several childish circles before taking a place over his "assistant's" shoulder to concern himself with the costume selection for the ball (which, of course, was pointless. His opinion would not be taken into consideration anyway). Tamaki pointed at the screen periodically and would make some futile comment, which Kyouya would completely ignore.

The boyish girl watched the two for a moment, then shook her head in exasperation. "I still don't get it. What's the point of a winter ball in the middle of spring?"

Tamaki flashed at her side instantly, taking her gentle face into his hands and pulling it up to met his eyes.

"The beauty of winter is _never ending_," here he paused to take a dramatic sigh. "The dark, cold, spot in a gentleman's unspoiled soul that evokes emotions of all extremes in any witness, is only complimented with the splendor of the fresh flakes of _virgin_ snow," He drawled out the words in exaggerated, honey-dipped syllables that would have any other girl on her knees.

"Virgin snow…?" Haruhi stared back at him blankly, clearly unmoved by the carefully primed serenade.

A snort of laughter could be heard as the last two additions to the ensemble of hosts made their way from the vast, elegant doors, to the small cluster of tables in the corner of the room where the rest were debating the untimely celebration.

"Or milord could just want to visit Niseko so badly because he's been dying to go snowboarding. It's only what he's been complaining about for weeks now," smirked the burgundy haired twin named Kaoru, his hazel eyes twinkling in their usual playful malice.

Suddenly Haruhi understood, a perceptive flash of lightning glazed through her previously jaded eyes. "Oh, That's right. You wouldn't stop talking about it a few days ago…"

Tamaki pulled himself from Haruhi and stood with his arms protectively over the expanse of his chest.

"I've skied plenty of times when I was younger, I just never had the pleasure of snowboarding," he looked off dramatically past the window, then back at the ensemble with sudden enthusiasm in his eyes. "And testing this method of entertainment should be exceedingly amusing! Right Kyouya?" At this Tamaki clapped his hands in excitement.

"indeed," Kyouya agreed monotonously, not even bothering to raise his glance to Tamaki.

Haruhi walked over to the table across from the one Kyouya sat at, and began pulling down the chairs for the guests who would be arriving soon.

"Still, I'm surprised Kyouya-sempai would agree to this," She said thoughtfully as she handed a chair to the tallest member of the group, Mori, who had come over to offer his assistance with preparations.

Kyouya continued to clatter away at his laptop, and without looking up, responded, "At first I too saw this concept as absurd, but after careful research I found this trip to be in the Host Club's best interest."

Kyouya turned his laptop away from himself for a moment so that the rest of the club members could see the figures on the screen, a chart of club sales that had significantly risen within the last week.

"The idea of an unconventional ball has been the source of many preposterous rumors, peeking the interest of the female population at the school and, ultimately promoting the sale of our merchandise," He pushed his glasses further up his nose, a satisfied grin creeping on his face.

"And you wouldn't have anything to do with these preposterous rumors, would you sempai?" Asked Haruhi, eyeing Kyouya accusingly. Only she could see through matters so clearly.

"I give valid disclaimers before any information is distributed to our customers. How my words are interpreted to others is out of my hands," He said grinning slyly, pulling his laptop back to its previous position before him.

"You're merchandise in particular has sold a lot recently, Kyouya," noted Hikaru amusedly as he took his final peek at the chart on the screen.

"Yes well, Tamaki's recent obsession with foreign mystery films has had its influence on our customers. Apparently my character significantly reflects this theme and attracts customers to my merchandise and services. Mori as well," Kyouya explained, once again submerged in his world of the light-emitting monitor.

At that moment a particular senior was awakening from his slumber. The cute boy sat up slowly on the red plush couch, his feet barely grazing the floor, and wiped his hands gently on his tired eyes, pushing away strands of golden hair from his angelic face."BunBun's Hungry."

"Uh Oh," noted Hikaru, putting to words what everyone in the room was thinking. "Someone better get out some cake. Quick."

* * *

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